


And Together We Leap

by ClassyBrainiac



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - Andy Wier
Genre: Established Johanbeck, F/M, Fluff, Johanbeck - Freeform, Takes Place After They Get Back To Earth, fight me, future canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyBrainiac/pseuds/ClassyBrainiac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Beth knows something’s up when she throws up during a demonstration of NASA’s new 10-G centrifuge."</p><p>In which Beth's not sure if she's ready for the tiny little embryo budding inside her. Johanbeck fluff and adorableness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Together We Leap

Beth knows something’s up when she throws up during a demonstration of the NASA’s new 10-G centrifuge.

 

She’s not even _on_ the centrifuge (not that it would have bothered her; she’d endured her share of those during training and had prided herself on being the only crewman on ARES 3  who could recover only a little slower than Lewis) but one minute she feels absolutely fine and excited and the next minute she’s watching the centrifuge spin fast enough to blur and nausea rises in her stomach like plasma. She speed-walks out of the room (not wanting to alarm the many really really rich and uppity people watching the demo) before stumbling into the ladies restroom and heaving into a toilet.

 

After what seems like several long, torturous hours, Beth finally feels well enough to sit back and breathe, clumsily wiping her mouth, skin clammy and cold. She considers standing, but her legs feel like gelatin and she’s pretty sure there’s a bowling ball strapped to her head. 

 

The door to the restroom squeaks open. Shoes rap on the floor. tap, tap. 

 

“Ms. Johansson?” 

 

Beth grinds her teeth. Juila is a sweet, smart intern that has a little bit too much respect for authority. _Ms. Johansson_ makes Beth sound old.

 

“M’fine,” Beth finally grunts. She forces herself to stand and shoves her way out the door, straight past a bewildered Julia, and leaves. 

 

—————

 

Her phone rings when she’s five minutes from the nearest Walgreens. Still hazy, Beth glances at the ID and swears, because how could she forget that Julia is Lewis’ niece? She answers with a brusque “what?”

 

 _“I heard you weren't feeling well.”_ Even over the phone, Lewis sounds as calm as ever. _“Julia could have given you a ride home. Does Chris—“_

 

“Chris is busy,” Beth snaps. It’s not a lie. In fact, Chris is downtown for the day with Watney, giving recruits for the ARES 4 mission a crash course in basic first-aid in space and EVA mechanics. It’s important to both the mission and to Chris, and Beth isn’t going to bother him with her stupid head cold.

 

“ _Alright_.” Lewis sounds skeptical. Then she pauses, just long enough for Beth to be about to snap again. _“Any chance you could be pregnant?”_

 

Beth nearly swerves into the Walgreens sign. “Lewis! I threw up _once_!”

 

 _“Okay, okay. Just throwing it out there, Johanssen.”_ She pauses again, shorter this time. “I _t’s probably just the flu._ ”

 

“Yeah,” Beth says pointedly.

 

“ _Feel better_.”

 

“Yeah, thanks.”

 

Lewis hangs up. 

 

Beth has almost managed to put the idea of babies and…stuff out of her mind until she reaches for the cold and flu medicine and realizes that she hasn’t had her period for over a month. She’s not sure what brings the thought (Lewis? Or the fact that the _supplies_ are the next aisle over?), but the fact that that’s enough to be a little strange makes an odd feeling in her stomach, like a pulse of warmth. Clutching her box of meds, Beth cycles two more aisles down and snatches off the rack the first pregnancy test she sees. 

 

As she leaves, her cashier, another unbearably sweet and preppy teenage girl, calls out “Good luck!” Beth instantly struggles with the simultaneous urges to hug her or throw the pregnancy test at her head. (Neither wins out, luckily).

 

The drive home takes no time at all, and much sooner than she’s prepared for she’s sitting on the edge of her bathtub, cold meds in one hand and the pregnancy test in the other. It’s a hell of a choice, some part of her thinks, but another little voice in the back of her head whispers that it’s really not a choice at all now. Either Beth’s got an embryo in her stomach that could grow into a human or she doesn’t. Maybe she’s just overreacting to a touch of the stomach flu. 

 

The instructions say to wait five minutes. Beth paces for what feels like hours. Her head is whirling now. She’s a scientist, were any of the signs there? She frantically reviews the scattered memories of her past few weeks. The smell of the fish casserole they’d had at Chris’s mother’s a few days ago had made her nauseous, but fish always had. Maybe not to the point where her vision had blurred and her stomach had twisted into knots, but—or her sudden outburst of tears at a news story about the VA scandal? Beth wasn’t a crier. She’d reasoned that her own father’s military past had affected her so deeply, but what if…and of course Beth remembered when she and Chris had—

 

The timer on her watch goes off. Beth’s heart seems to sink and rise at the same time, and she walks into the bathroom on tingling feet. The pregnancy test is lying safely on the counter, and Beth peers at it with trepidation. Fear of a negative minus or positive plus, Beth didn’t know.

 

It’s a plus.

 

A feeling that Beth can accurately describe as being strapped down inside a launching spacecraft overwhelms her. Her hand flies to her stomach and her knees hit the floor. Her breathing is too shallow and there are dark spots in her eyes because it’s been less than four years since they touched back down to Earth and Beth could hardly handle herself around flammable accelerants and sharp objects, much less remember how to socialize with anyone who wasn't the five people she lived with in space for three years…

 

A second force hits her, this time like a punch to the gut: _She’s not ready._

 

Unbidden, her mind flies to another pack of pills tucked on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet above Chris’ sink. It was his idea to keep them on hand, quietly, for the just-in-case just-in-case. Though controversial, they’re much more available to the public than they were twenty years ago: just one powerful little pill down her throat and she could exterminate the little life that’s growing inside her—

 

Beth wants to throw up again, wants to bang her head on the wall for even _thinking_ that she would do that, that she _could_ do that. It’s a baby, an innocent baby, and—and—and—

 

Beth closes her eyes. Stands up on shaky legs. Limps over to the cabinet over Chris’ sink. Pulls open the door, stands on tip-toe to reach the bottle on the top shelf. Breaks the seal. Pops each and every pill out of it’s little foil pod until two dozen capsules lay in a pile in her palm. Stumbles to the bathroom. 

 

Without hesitation, tips her hand to the side and pours every single pill into the toilet and, without hesitation, flushes. She watches them vanish down the swirling drain, hears them gurgle into oblivion. 

 

She turns away, presses a palm over her belly button, and grins.

 

_She’s going to be a mother._

 

———

 

Chris Beck is exhausted.

 

The new recruits are idiots. And frankly, that’s putting it _kindly_. You’d think that the generation that grew up with unrestricted access to the most advanced technology in history would have at least a few brain cells. And yet, working with the ARES 5 group was like jumping off a cliff without looking and hoping you landed on the mattress below. 

 

Maybe he was just getting jaded in his old middle age. 

 

The car pulls itself in the driveway with a final chime to remind him he’s home and Chris quickly ducks out. No matter how tired he is, Beth should be home and seeing her somehow always makes him feel like he’s waking up again. 

 

He pushes the door open with a grin and calls out, “Honey, I’m home!”

 

No answer.

 

Chris frowns. Silence. The kitchen lights are on and, oddly enough, there’s a bowl of grapes on the counter next to a half-closed jar of peanut butter, but no Beth in sight. 

 

“Beth?” He tries again, and is rewarded from a faint noise from the bedroom.

 

Smiling slightly, he sticks his head into their bedroom to see her nearly buried in the covers, duvet pulled up to her chin, blinking sleepily. Chris can’t help but grin; it’s when she’s half-asleep that she makes the cutest remarks.

 

“Sorry,” he murmured, settling on the edge of the bed and leaning down to kiss her forehead. He lifts a hand to stroke her hair, which is pulled back in a short ponytail. “I’m guessing work was rough?”

 

“Had to leave early,” she mumbled. As Chris’ eyebrows shoot up, she pulls him closer so that he's reclining on the bed and rests her head in his lap. “Was sick.”

 

His cool fingers continue to smooth her brow. “Feeling better?”

 

She nods vaguely. “Was a big day.”

 

“Oh yeah, how’d the centrifuge work?”

 

“Hmmmm…”

 

Chris chuckles to himself and carefully maneuvers his Beth so her head rests more comfortably on his chest. He presses his lips to her hair. “I love you,” he whispers, and closes his eyes.

 

“Chris?” 

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

And Chris, half-dozing, does the worst thing possible: he freezes. His chest locks and his brain jams. He’s imagined this before (of course he has) and has memorized all the important truths that Beth would need to hear—but now they stick in his throat.

 

“Chris?” Beth props herself up on one elbow, brow drawn in worry. “Are you—is this—“

 

Almost on autopilot, Chris’ hands cup her face and he can feel a grin stretching across his face. Instead of words, he just laughs and kisses her, over and over again until they’re both giggling and breathless like a bunch of teenagers, and then the perfect words finally leave his lips:

 

“We’re going to be parents.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of however many! More baby cuteness to come.


End file.
